Author: Paula Giuliana Panettieri

Description: Hi. My name is Paula, I am 22 years old and I will tell you a story about a place I will never forget. It was last year, the end of May 2016. I was on my Erasmus semester in Hamburg (Germany) and I decided to visit some friends in Aarhus (Denmark). I also realized that I could not go to Denmark and not seeing Copenhagen, though. None of my friends in Hamburg were giving too much importance to such a trip as I was trying to organize. So in the end I just thought “I guess it’s time to try a trip on my own” and I booked a blablacar that same evening. I felt really nervous and excited at the same time. I remember dedicating the first hours in the city to simply explore the area not so far from the hostel. I just walked around with no specific destination, appreciating any detail I run into, observing and getting lost... in a good way. But the second day, after a free walking tour and having seen the main attractions of the city, I wanted to see Christiania. For those of you who have never heard about it, this is a “special” neighborhood of Copenhagen. Its inhabitants proclaimed it autonomous themselves: a little and colorful community which economy is based on handmade products and cannabis trade. People talk so much about it that I was really curious, although basically everyone told me not to go there all by myself. I didn’t care and I searched for it. You have to know that getting lost is kind of my “trademark” in every trip I have ever made. Also that day, I found myself completely lost, somewhere close to Christiania. All I could see was just wooden and simple colorful houses in a small village in the middle of nowhere. There was no one around. But still, I kept on walking. Most of times I just firmly believe that if I persist on one way, I will get to some point anyway. And there it was: a little lake in a neglected corner of Copenhagen. The grass was so high around that it was so clear it hadn’t been cut in a while. There was a chilly breeze and it was a beautiful day (weird to say, for this country). The birds were flying and peace could be breathed in the air. That place had something. I sat on the only bench you could find there. It was a really old one. I sat just to stare at the horizon. I was a flow of thoughts. All I could think about was to enjoy that moment, those minutes of absolute loneliness. Listening to that endless quietness. It didn’t really matter that I had no idea of where I was or where I had to go. Or that my legs were so tired. It was me and that lake. Suddenly any issue or worry seemed so small in comparison to how huge that richness was: the gift of appreciating where you happen to be, when you happen to be there. I will never forget it.